


For the Greater Good

by Fannikay (MissusManic)



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alpha!Jade, Alpha!John, Alternate Universe, F/F, M/M, Political Junk, alpha!dave - Freeform, alpha!rose - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-03-25
Updated: 2016-03-29
Packaged: 2018-05-29 02:05:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,015
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6354439
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MissusManic/pseuds/Fannikay
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Karkat and Dave meet under fragile political circumstances that result in bonding, avoiding numerous assassination attempts, watching horrible Earth movies, and preparing for an impending war.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. let's start with a bang

**Author's Note:**

> Out of all the fanfics sitting on my computer I can't believe the one I stared writing two days ago is the one I'm posting.
> 
> I also like to call this: the ET AU that stopped being an ET AU and went horribly wrong in like 5 seconds while I was chatting with a friend.
> 
> I only have vague ideas of where I'm going with this story. Second Chapter is kind of done-ish 'cept I need to re-read and edit it cause I'm anal. Everything in this story in ridiculous. What are politics. Thankfully I suddenly have much free-writing time on my schedule. Enjoy.

**=== > KARKAT: BE DIPLOMATIC**

Your name is KARKAT VANTAS, and you're pretty damn sure diplomacy is nowhere in your future.

The job you have been sent to accomplish is no doubt a delicate task that requires poise, tact, and a thorough understanding of intergalactic politics. As it happens, you have none of these things. You aren't even an official Alternian ambassador. Going to Earth to make nice with the humans is not your job. It is most likely one of the most undesirable jobs a Troll could be given, and you're sure the only reason you're on a ship landing on Earth is because her Imperious Condescension hates you with every fiber of her being.

In other words, you're here to fail, or die trying.

Kanaya gently rubs your arm, just as aware as you were of why you're being sent to Earth. Her presence is solid—a comfort as you feel the ship lower onto the dry wasteland where you're to meet important, competent political figures. You know she's not here to be your moirial. The Condesce would never risk a Jade Blood for something as petty as balance and support. She's just here to complete her check on the Mother Grub that's staying on Earth, as per agreement. Kanaya will leave long before you ever do, but you can pretend, even for a moment, that she will be there for you the whole way.

There's a jolt as the ship finally lands. The Olive and Brown Blood sent to escort Kanaya stand, taking that as their cue to prepare. They are the only other trolls on the ship besides the Captain and the Helmsman, which just further proves what you already know. Kanaya is treasured, you're expendable. No one will be there to stop attacks on your life.

“I will ask Orephi to stay with you,” Kanaya says, filling the silence. She carefully adjusts the hood she made to help protect you from the sun. “He wears the Sufferer's symbol on his cuff. I am sure he will stay behind if I said so. The idea of you being unprotected is incredibly nerve-wracking.”

You remember seeing the symbol, the sign of your ancestor, on the bodyguard. You also remember scrunching up your nose, annoyed at seeing the representation of the rebellion so far from Alternia. That stupid symbol is the reason you're here in the first place.

“It's _fine_ , Kanaya.” You reach out to grab her hand, stopping her from fixing your hood once again. A bit of regret seeps in; you already miss her soft touches. “Believe me—the torture of dealing with the minuscule intelligence of the human race for a couple of perigrees will be nothing compared to the absolute shitshow the seabitch herself will rain down on the poor bastard for leaving his post.”

“You're right. I suppose I am only trying to make myself feel better with the suggestion.”

The ship's door lowers, and a stream of light enters from the opening it creates. The two bodyguards are already covered in hoods, black and simple and definitely not as well made as yours. You almost feel jealous. The bright red Sufferer's symbol stitched into the brown cloth feels like a target on your back. You spent too much of your life in fear of death to suddenly be happy with the pride forced upon you.

Sounds of reporters bustling around outside the ship filter in. If you had any choice in the matter, this would be a private affair of only the people you absolutely had to meet. But the Condesce was all about the attention, whether it was for her or Alternia. Reporters will surround you to broadcast your arrival to the country, maybe even the planet. Who knows. The point was the a lot of people were going to see you set foot on Earth, and a lot of people were not going to like that at all.

“How do you feel?” Kanaya asks as she stands.

“Like I'm going to fuck things up stupendously.”

“As long as you are safe about it.”

You snort, ending the conversation. The humans have probably waited long enough.

Kanaya leaves the ship first. She is the only one of the four Trolls that doesn't have to wear a hood, the sudden exposure of Earthen Sunlight being of no consequence to her. You envy how much more confident it makes her seem. She smiles at you with black painted lips before proceeding down the steps. The sound of reporters becomes louder, a bit annoying. You can't see her from where you're standing, but you know she must be having a grand old time down there.

This is where it ends, you think. You're going to go down and be greeted by people who'll pretend you aren't an ambassador for what's probably the biggest threat in the entire galaxy. They'll treat you with all the utmost respect you don't deserve. You know they admire the Signless, the Sufferer. The man who spoke against tyranny and the hemospectrum and inspired a rebellion so large it could never completely be quelled.

But you aren't him. Your name is KARKAT VANTAS. You spent most of your life knowing you'd be culled the minute the drones found out your blood color, and the only reason you're alive is because the people discovered the troll boy with red blood before the Condesce ever could. You once dreamed that it would be your fighting skills and impressive leadership ability that would get you this far.

That had only ever been wishful thinking. Even now, with the support of Alternia on your shoulders, you're still being sent away to be killed. Only an idiot would think otherwise.

You step into the sunlight, face shadowed but head still held high. If the buzz around Kanaya leaving the ship was annoying then, it's nothing compared to now. Flashing light after flashing light, outstretched microphones that wait for you eagerly near the bottom of the stairs. A group in pressed suits and professional dresses stand not too far away to greet you. Kanaya is just finishing shaking hands with a small, dark woman when you make your way down to the last few steps.

Your foot hasn't even touched the surface when a shot rings out.

This was going to be an even longer day than planned

 


	2. this is not a drill

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. I planned to have this chapter out earlier, but I decided I didn't like some of the dialogue. And some paragraphs. And much of anything really. I think the only reason I managed to finish it before Friday came around was because Homestuck updating left me hyped (upd8 upd8 upd8). 
> 
> Originally this was going to be entirely Karkat's POV, but I need more practice writing both Karkat and Dave, so Dave. Jazz hands. It also ended up, like, almost (almost) 1,000 words longer than the last chapter. Which has never happened before. Huh.
> 
> Enjoy.

** ==>DAVE: PROTECT THE AMBASSADOR **

Your name is DAVE STRIDER, and what began as an obligatory appearance ordered by her royal sea-witch herself has turned into you potentially saving the Ambassador's life. Since, apparently, no one else was sent to do so.

Had anyone told you this is what you'd be doing today, you would have at least had the common decency to pack a sword. Maybe not a full katana, but even a tanto might help against the group of pro-war pricks disguised as reporters littering the crowds. Just how bad was the security for this event? Was there even some kind of security? You feel extremely unprotected just thinking about how fucked up this whole situation is.

You've flashstepped the Ambassador away from the ship by the time a second shot sounds, and everything descends down into horrible, horrible chaos. Newscasters and journalists and cameramen run around in disorganized masses, trying to escape unknown lines of fire. Rose has her needles at the ready, and she nods in affirmation that her and the two, huge troll bodyguards have Maryam perfectly safe from any sort of harm. You don't have time to envy Rose's ability to carry around those sticks of death as inconspicuously as possible.

Ambassador Vantas is bewildered by your side, as most people are when you suddenly flashstep with a passenger on board. Thankfully, he isn't so bewildered that he's making you push him along. He follows you stride for stride as you guide him through the hysteria to the safety of the cars—namely, the black sedans used to drop you off. A few of those sedans speed away, hopefully one already containing Rose and the three other trolls. One of those classical men in black awaits you with a car door ready and open. You make sure Vantas gets in first before sliding in after.

“Holy fuck,” is the first thing the troll says once the car is racing off from the frenzy.

You get the feel.

He pulls down his hood, seeing as how the car's windows are tinted. You don't really need to take any sort of good look at the Ambassador since pictures of him have been circulating the news for years now. Thick black hair pulled into some semblance of order (although now it could only qualify as a 'hot mess'). Intense eyebrows over bright red eyes. Mouth tugged into a frown which, okay, was understandable. Guy could've died and all. Can't say you ever remember him ever smiling in any of the pictures you've seen of him.

“You cool Mr. Ambassador?” You ask. Vantas was obviously still tense, wound up tighter than Rose on a strict deadline. He keeps looking out the window, like one of the flag-waving assholes might run up aside the car any second with guns blazing.

“What? Oh, no. Don't mind me. I literally didn't even take a step on this useless hunk of rock before some raging dickmunches tried to promptly spread my thinkpan on the dirt. It's a wonder you guys don't get guests from the depths of space more often.”

Your raise an eyebrow, not entirely expecting that to come out of the troll's mouth. Not expecting much of anything to come of the troll's mouth, to be honest. He never seemed like much of talker in any of the interviews, said nothing beyond yes and no and the skin-melting glares. The hilarious sarcasm was a bit of a sideswipe to some of the assumptions you've made about Vantas. At least the ride wasn't going to be boring.

“Eh. That actually wasn't even half as bad as the other things they've tried. You should've seen what happened when some purple fish hipster came down for a visit. Planted a bomb on the car he asked for. Even attached a firework to it, like destroying a shitty purple corvette was some huge victory for humanity.”

“No offense, but hearing stories about how your race has continuously tried to kill me and my friends is the last thing I need right now.”

“Sorry,” because, again, guy could've died. Good job, Strider. “You're friends with Ampora?”

Vantas is momentarily distracted by the changing scenery, dirt road becoming concrete and cityscape. The driver has slown down, no longer seeing either of the passengers in any immediate danger. The troll doesn't take the chance to catch the view.

“Eridan? Yeah, I guess we're friends. I remember him talking about that dumb car before he left, actually. He wouldn't fucking shut up about it. If blowing up that thing wasn't a victory for Earth, it sure as hell was for Alternia.”

“Haha.”

Then there's awkward silence. Vantas looks out the window towards to passing buildings. You take a glance at your phone. The time is almost 8 o'clock in the morning, which is a fucking crime in and of itself. All you had for breakfast was a poptart and a glass of AJ—something small to sustain your 2 and a half hours of driving from Rose's house, through the city and to the landing destination. Some Breakfast type event deal was supposed to happen when the Ambassador got to Earth. You can only assume that's canceled now, for obvious reasons.

“So before I decide I've made some horrible mistake,” Vantas turns to you, eyebrow raised in both a question and what might have been suspicion. “Who are you and where are you taking me?”

You hold your hand over your heart, feigning offense. Mostly.

“Unbelievable. Here I am, coming all this way to greet the an Alternian Ambassador, and the guest of honor doesn't even recognize me. What, is your almighty ruler not spreading the news of her massive hate boner for me to the masses?”

The look that crosses his face is one of mild confusion. You can see the wheels turning in his head, and you're half tempted to pose as he takes in your appearance. Then his eyes widen in realization. Oh yeah. He knows who you are, if the look of exasperation has anything to say about it.

“You're Dave Strider, aren't you?”

“Ding ding ding. We've got a winner, Vanna. What's his prize?”

“Dammit.”

“Hey, you asked bro.”

He's like a physical representation of exactly how much your reputation precedes you off planet, furrowed eyebrows and scowl and all. Nice. He absolutely has to have seen your movies.

Vantas takes a breathe before he continues.

“Where are we going?”

“Oh, yeah. That's a very good question.”

“You have got to be shitting me. Are you telling me we're currently riding in a car with no known destination?”

“Chill out, Vantas,” you tell him, and he glares, looking ready to tear into you for telling him to 'chill', since apparently that wasn't possible at the moment. “I'll just call Rose and—whoa, look, speak of the flighty broad and she will appear.”

Rose's contact, actually named 'Flighty Broad' (which you deem fair, considering your status as 'Insufferable Prick' in her own contacts), pops up on your phone. The selfie she sent you of her and Roxy using small green W's as classy mustaches take up your screen. You take a moment to appreciate the adorableness in these awful times before you answer.

“Sup.”

“ _Hello, Dave. Am I to assume you made it away in one piece?_ ”

“Nah. Pretty sure my decent, normal morning completely fell out of my pocket in the hustle and bustle. My chances at complementary breakfast food have been dashed, Rose.”

“ _Truly a tragedy._ ”

“For real.”

“Is that Rose Lalonde? Ask her if Kanaya is okay,” Vantas demands, getting close to you, as if he might take the phone and ask her himself. You lean away because the car really wasn't all that big to be leaning over anywhere without it getting uncomfortable.

“Dude, personal bubble.” You inform him, watching as he moves back away. “Vantas wants to know if—“

“ _Maryam is well and accounted for._ ”

“She says Maryam's fine.”

The troll releases a deep breath next to you, looking visibly less tense than he did before. That must've been the extent of his interest in your conversation so far, because he turns away to continue looking out at the passing scenery.

“So, you have any idea where we're headed now? Should I be dropping our guest off at his hotel?”

“ _That wouldn't be advised. I take it you haven't been checking the news?_ ”

“Sure haven't,” but you take that as your cue that you should. You put Rose on speaker as you bring up the internet, start typing in some searches and, welp, there it is. Strikes outside The Plaza, where the Ambassador was going to stay. It looked tame so far, but that's how it always started. Tame until someone punched a policeman, brought out the weapons, murdered some innocent passerby. Who knows what would happen if they brought Vantas there now. Two assassination attempts in one day was just too much.

“So I'm taking the hotel as a no go,” you say, flipping between different articles on the situation.

“ _As a far as everyone is considered, Ambassador Vantas is safe, but his location is being kept secret due to safety concerns. I've talked around, and it appears my home will be the best bet for the time being. Your driver should already know._ ”

“All the way back to your house? Damn, kinda a while out, don't you think?”

“ _I take it the company is subpar?_ ”

“If my ears combust from being surrounded by the sheer volume of short, angry troll, I'm blaming it all on you.”

“Um, hello? Yeah, I'm still here, asshole.”

“Yup,” you say, popping the p obnoxiously and enjoying the glare he sends your way. You take the phone off of speaker, pressing it back to your ear. “You better make a damn good breakfast for me when we get to your house, Lalonde.”

“ _And when have I ever done otherwise?_ ”

“French toast when we were 16.”

“ _A minor set back to an otherwise flawless report. I'll see you at home, Dave._ ”

The two of you say your quick goodbyes, and you turn, once again, to look at your company for what will undoubtedly be a bit of a long car ride. He's looking away from you, obviously fuming in the anger that must take up most of his personality. So far Karkat Vantas has been sarcastic, snarky, loud and irritated in all of the short time you've spent with him. Karkat Vantas is also the impetus for what might just be the longest years to come. You're not exactly sure what will happen, and you can only imagine the specifics. You do know none of it is going to be pretty.

But your name is DAVE STRIDER. You've spent most of your life rolling in a dark, depressing pit before you finally crawled out with your nothing but your bare hands, sword, and baby brother in tow. The life you made for you and Dirk is not entirely what you expected. The fame that originally only gave you the money you needed to survive grew bigger than you imagined, granting you prestige, status, and all sorts of unwanted attention. You put jokes about the Alternian Empire in your movies that made you an unwilling paradigm for the people and placed you squarely on her Imperial Condescension's shit-list.

You've seen some of the bullshit the world can throw at you. You may not be prepared for what's to come, but only time can tell when you'll be made to stand to fight, whether you want to or not. For now, you'll sit back and enjoy whatever time you do have.

“You wanna play ispy or something?”

“Don't talk to me.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How do you write Dave. Tell me. I say like I haven't written things from Dave's perspective before. (Flops over).
> 
> I'm too lazy to read it through with a keen eye. Pardon my mistakes. Also why can Karkat speak English? A Good question. A good question That will be answered in a later chapter. Like a lot of things. Also I edited the summary slightly cause it wasn't sitting right with me.

**Author's Note:**

> Note: I don't actually have a lot of experience writing Kanaya. I'm gonna try tho.
> 
> Note 2: I don't have a beta. Welp. Hopefully there's not too many mistakes.


End file.
